Boushi Means Hat
by EverythingXBurrito
Summary: Boushi Montekay, who is already considered a heathen, has a secret. One that would kill her favorite man in the world if he found out. But running away to a strange academy in Japan and posing as a student seems to cause far more harm than good. AidoXOC


**_Hello~ Welcome to EverythingXBurrito's first story~ I'd truly appreciate some feedback on it, especially in review form! But, above all else, just enjoy! _**

**_~EXB_**

* * *

><p><em>"God dammit, Charles! You told me our baby wouldn't be like you! You promised me she'd be pure!" a flash of tousled, blonde hair howled feverishly as it sprung towards a middle aged man. His build was thin and strong, sable hair curled ever so slightly at the tips. He fastened a shimmering, golden pocket watch to his vest and straightened the hat upon his head. A pair of black, pinstriped, slacks extended down powerful, lengthy legs. He was, in the simplest sense of the word, gorgeous.<em>

_"Cara, I promised you nothing. Now hurry and put on your gloves so we can leave. You know parties are my reason for life, so go quickly dear." he smiled, turning to the statuesque woman behind him. Her beauty was far less than that of her husband, seeming almost homely in comparison. She was often a target of ridicule during the extravagant get-togethers her lover adored so thoroughly. All his friends were unexplainably perfect; every inch of their pale, pale, skin remained flawless and taut no matter their age. The crow's feet and worry lines that dappled her flesh made the woman inadequate next to those with fangs._

_"She bit me, Charles. The little bitch tried to eat me! The whore that you forced in my womb for four years! The little slut that clawed her way out of my stomach. The one you created without my consent." she spat, drawing a thin hand across her spouse's frigid cheek. Doctor Charles Montekay, the sinfully lavish vampire who had been praised by both humans and his own kind for feats of the medical and psychological, spat a lump of saliva onto the mahogany floors of his summer home. He scoffed, crushing his wife's throat against a wall with sharp speed and power that bordered on the insane. The caramel colored eyes set deep within his perfect face glinted with ferocity. Charles flung the blonde aside with infantile ease, as though her body were no more than a piece of trash._

_"Cara, you do not insult my child. No matter what she does or is, Clarisse stays out of this." he snarled, fixing the bow tie strung about his neck. Charles glared at her with such fierce conviction it appeared as though he were looking past the body and into the woman's soul. His expression softened slightly. He helped his lover off the floor with the utmost level of care. Charles gave her a heart wrenching smile,_

_"You're lucky, Cara, that I can remember why I love you so easily. You'd be dead if I couldn't."_

_"You are a cold-hearted, pale skinned, bastard, Charles Montekay. And I'd rather be dead than raise the Satan spawn you created." Cara pushed him away as she pivoted to reach a sturdy, oaken dresser. Her hatred for the man behind her was evident as she reached for the glittering body of a gun beneath a pile of lavishly designed gloves. She had no choice but to kill Charles, otherwise he'd keep her hands tied together until she was dried up from feeding the monstrosity her baby had been turned into. Four years of pregnancy and unsurpassable pain had not yielded the angelic blessing Cara had hoped for. Instead, it had concocted something to be considered genius by all vampires and humans. Something Cara would destroy the moment she was given a chance. A creature far more disgusting than any other._

_"Cara, you don't think I'm an idiot, do you? Well, actually, it's apparent you do. So perhaps I should rephrase my question." two heavy hands clapped down on Cara's shoulders. Sparks of fear and terror fleeted down her spine._

_"Is Miss Cara Montekay, dare I share my last name with scum such as you, under the impression that I will hesitate to kill her? Because if I damn well feel like it, I will snap your neck and let Clarisse suck you dry."_

_"Daddy~! Daddy~!" the sound of tiny footsteps crawled into the couple's ears. Charles peeled away from his wife quickly, trailing his fingers down her arms as he ran towards door._

_A young girl, hardly more than four years old, clomped her way into her parent's bedroom gleefully. She had short, raven hair that fluffed out in layers from beneath a gauzy bandage. The facade covered her face all except for one, huge, ruddy eye and a pair of sweet, rosy lips. It trailed down to the toddler's neck where it had been tied in a gleeful bow. She was dressed in a blood red dress, her arms cloaked by silken, cardinal tinted, gloves. Small, ebony shoes hung from a pair of tiny feet and hid white socks from view. The child opened her mouth in ecstasy as her father rushed over to pluck her off the ground. Two spindly fangs stuck out from beneath her cherry hued lips._

_Cara, who still stood by the dresser with the trigger of a pistol hanging from her fingers, gritting her unremarkable teeth, couldn't help but turn green with envy. Why did her daughter get all the attention? Why was she left behind and treated like a husk of the woman Charles adored? Her jealously was not the reason she did what she chose to do, however. In truth, it was the sheer thought that the child was not human as she was that drove her actions to the extreme. Charles had promised her she would be normal. He'd said that she wouldn't be a bloodsucking heathen._

_But that was a lie._

_Cara Montekay had birthed a vampire. Something only two parents of the same species could do. Something that made her seethe with fury and rage. Charles, an aristocrat, had altered her fetus in some horrid way. With lies and secrets, he had turned her perfectly normal, perfectly human, baby into a monster._

_And that demon of a child deserved the bullet that forced it's way through her chest._

She awoke with a start. Sitting straight up before falling onto the coarsely carpeted floors of a dimly lit department store. A light purple curtain hid the girl's embarrassment from view, seeing as she'd found herself in a dressing room. Boxes of all shapes and sizes littered the ground and the small, plastic, bench that had been dubbed unsanitary by the germaphobic young woman.

She had fallen asleep during what appeared to be the search for a perfect new hat, judging by all the discarded caps lying around her. The sixteen year old child stood up slowly, groggy after the terrible dream she'd just had. A thin hand wound it's way into the lacy black dress that clung to her chest. There was a big line of gnarled flesh trailing down her stomach, and one down her sternum. A shiver dribbled down her spine coolly but didn't shock her enough to wipe the brimming grin from her rosy lips. One of the most important things to her was smiling and she wouldn't let a sour memory deter her from beaming at the world with optimism.

She quickly decided on a simple, ebony, bowler hat with a deep purple band. In one sharp movement, she placed it over a matted clump of hair and bandages, covering the slightly exposed part of her face before anyone laid eyes on her. The young adult turned to face a floor length mirror and smiled at herself warmly. Everything was in place. There was a hat on her head, a gauzy bow around her neck, and a dressing hiding everything but her mouth and one vibrant, red eye from view.

"Boushi Montekay!" a joyous voice called as the woman stepped out from her dressing room. She blinked sluggishly before yawning with her eyes half-mast, hardly expecting an ecstatic sales representative to hurry up to her. Boushi Montekay, the daughter of acclaimed scientist, Charles Montekay, and commoner, Cara Montekay, rubbed both of her hands down the length of her gauze coated jaw. She was far too groggy to deal with such a fake and perky woman. It was past noon, which meant Boushi could have fainted with exhaustion. But that was the price she paid in order to find the most extravagant, lavish, head coverings she could.

"Here's the payment for my new hat!" Boushi chimed, putting on an almost scary smile. She handed the employee a hefty sum of money, pointing to the cap placed on her head with her free hand. It forced already unkempt hair to burst out even more, giving her a slight clown-like appearance. However, the chapeau also looked very cutesy atop her head and matched perfectly with the black lace that cloaked her body.

"Oh, well I really should have you pay at the counter... But, if you autograph a copy of my favorite book I could let things slide!" the eager helper pushed a thick rectangle at Boushi.

"So you don't think I'm a heathen who should have never been born? Oh goody!" she cried. Boushi embraced the woman heavily, breathing in the sharp, chemical scent that drifted from her petite body.

"I... Thought your work was a great piece of fiction. Writing it from the view of a pacifist vampire whose parents were of different species was genius. Why would you be a heathen?" the sales representative gulped. Boushi quickly released the woman. Her heart fell to her feet sharply, returning from momentary exuberance as she spoke weakly,

"Hah! Right... Work of fiction... Yeah..."


End file.
